


Cold Winter's Night

by Wisteria_Leigh



Series: Prompted Works [16]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish Appalachian Accent Level: minimal, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, St. Agnes, Tumblr Prompt, also no angst in sight?!?!?, this is goofy, who am i anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 20:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17774063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wisteria_Leigh/pseuds/Wisteria_Leigh
Summary: “You’re an ass,” he grumbles, elbowing Ronan’s chest without any force.“An ass you’re willing to sleep with,” Ronan snickers into Adam’s neck.





	Cold Winter's Night

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by an anon on Tumblr from [ this list ](http://purrincesscatitude.tumblr.com/post/181823833695/prompt-list): 50: “It’s so cold in here.” “Stop whining. I am not cuddling with you.”

“You ever wonder what keeps the devil out of this place?” Ronan asks one late night in February, buried under a pile of blankets in the St. Agnes apartment. 

Crucifixes; holy water; mediocre organ playing; prayer; incense, possibly. There’s a long list of Pope Certified Devil-Repellent rituals that go on downstairs. But Adam already knows that Ronan isn’t asking a serious question, so he doesn’t bother giving Ronan more than a half-grunted sound of acknowledgement. 

“Because,” Ronan growls, “there was no way in hell that Satan would leave the warmth of his fiery home to come encourage sin in this frozen shithole. Pun  _ fucking  _ intended, by the way.”

Adam sighs. “Stop whining. I am not cuddling with you.”

Ronan groans, long and loud and absolutely obnoxious. He  _so_ regrets dreaming Adam that warming sweatshirt he's got on. Like,  _really_ regrets it. Seemed like a great idea at the time, when the poor kid was shivering underneath his shitty winter coat from, like, 3 decades ago. Now? Adam is all nice and toasty, and Ronan is going to die a popsicle. 

“If you’re going to be a nuisance about it,” Adam says from his makeshift desk, attention still held by his statistics homework, “then you can go back to Monmouth.”

“And what? Cuddle with Dick and Maggot?  _ Cheng _ ?”

“Or take a hot shower. Or get another sweater. Or sit in front of one of Gansey’s twenty space heaters.” And he only lets a  _ little  _ bit of bitterness slip out in that last part. Adam’s fourth-hand heater from Mrs. Ramirez has a nasty habit of blowing the circuit board when turned on in tandem with literally any other electronic. If Adam must choose between light and heat, 98% of the time he will choose light. 

They  _ could  _ have just gone to the Barns, like Ronan wanted. Sure, the drafty old farmhouse also wasn’t the warmest thing in the valley, either, but at least the wood stove was reliable. And didn’t pose an electrical fire risk. But no.  _ Parrish  _ didn’t want to drive all the way from The Barns to Aglionby the next morning, and “if I already have to stop at St. Agnes to get my stuff, why don’t we just stay there?”

And by that point, Ronan just wanted to make out with him, and frankly didn’t give a  _ fuck  _ where it was going to happen as long as it happened, like, right fucking now.

But Jesus Christ in Heaven Fucking Above, did he regret thinking with his dick right about now.

“Can’t you just use a flashlight or something?” Ronan mumbles, burrowed in a cave of bedding: vaguely-square knitted mishaps from Fox Way, old fleece blankets from Monmouth’s crap closet, hideous comforters Adam got from Goodwill, and few quilts hand-sewn by Aurora.

“No,” Adam says.

“Just sit it upright on your desk.”

“Tried it, doesn’t work.”

“I will fucking hold it for you.”

Adam turns from his loose leaf and raises a brow. “You’ll stand here holding a flashlight above my head for the next two hours while I finish  _ all  _ of my homework? Without bothering me?”

Ronan gulps. “Yes?”

Adam shakes his head and turns back to his textbook. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Challenge accepted.

Ronan steels himself for extraction from the blanket burrito he’s made, readies himself for the frigid touch of the hardwood floor. Adam, without looking away from his notebook, opens up a drawer of the desk and hands Ronan the plastic flashlight.

He can sort-of reach the space heater from the mattress, so he unplugs the lamp, slaps the On-switch of the heater, and turns on the flashlight in perfect succession. The room fills with questionable groaning and hissing, but sure enough, irregular waves of heat start pumping from the old metal radiator.

But it’s going to take more than a few seconds to turn this place from frosty to toasty (if this damn apartment can even  _ get  _ that hot what with the non-existent weatherproofing of the rattling windows and obvious lack of insulation.) So he stands dutiful to the side of the desk, holding the flashlight over Adam’s work, while wrapped in his mother’s old quilt like a babushka.

Adam looks over, smirks, and gets back to studying without saying a word.

To Ronan’s credit, he really does  _ try  _ to be still as a statue. Or...lamp. But the floor is really fucking cold. And holding a flashlight still is actually a lot harder than you would think. He manages  _ maybe  _ twenty minutes. Which is still pretty damn good, if you ask him. Good enough to be worthy of keeping the heater on, he thinks.

“No flashlight, no heat,” Adam says. Ronan groans. Adam doesn’t give a shit, and gives Ronan A Look just to prove it. He turns the heater off and plugs the light back in and gets right back to work while Ronan sulks in Blanket Mountain once more.

To Adam’s credit, he decides he can save the rest of his homework for another time, and only makes Ronan suffer for another thirty minutes. He turns off the light, turns the heater on, and comes to bed.

Ronan graciously allows him to nestle under the blankets with him, curls his arms around Adam’s waist and chest. He then puts his feet on Adam’s stomach, an awkward angle that kinda hurts, honestly, but it’s worth it for the yelp Adam lets out and his frantic scramble that nearly sends both of them toppling off the bed.

“You’re an ass,” he grumbles, elbowing Ronan’s chest without any force.  

“An ass you’re willing to sleep with,” Ronan snickers into Adam’s neck.

Even if Adam’s facing away from him, Ronan can feel the eye roll. He bites Adam’s neck. Adam swats him away, “quit,” slurring off his tongue. “You gonna go to sleep or not?”

“Probably not.”

“You gonna let  _ me  _ sleep?”

That’s not a question that deserves a real answer, but Ronan gives one anyways. “ ‘Course,” he mumbles.

Adam hums. “Make sure you plug the light back in when you get too hot tonight,” he murmurs through a yawn.

Ronan scoffs. As if he could get too hot in this glacial palace.

He definitely does. And when Adam wakes up to find the desk lamp plugged in and the heater sitting silently in the corner, he smirks. And then he sticks his very cold hands on Ronan’s stomach.

Ronan yells and thrashes dramatically enough it knocks Adam off the bed.  

It’s worth it.


End file.
